was having, but he wasn't so sure about that.  He had tried to find Tiella before coming to the chamber, but she hadn't appeared in the baths, nor did he see her in the hallways as he wandered about.  Novices had set schedules, so it was certain that she was somewhere specific, and that she would be there again tomorrow.  Keritanima said she would find out where she was, and that made Tarrin a bit uncertain.  How would an Initiate with no direct contact with Tiella be able to find her?  True, she was a Princess, and she was good at finding things out, but he wasn't so sure that she could find Tiella in a day, and not leave tracks that she was asking.
	He'd been so intent on finding Tiella that he didn't get a chance to talk to Dar.  That would be handled after class, because Dar would be easy to track down.  Initiates were given much more freedom than Novices but still only had so many places that they were allowed to go, and since Tarrin was Dar's friend, it wouldn't arouse suspicion if he asked around to find him.
	Tarrin was still a bit unsure about Keritanima's ideas.  He'd never seen spying and intrigue, so he had no idea how she was going to manage all the things she said she would do.  He did like her plan, however, so that told him that she must know what she was doing.  But he had trouble conceiving of something that he couldn't see or touch.  That was an aspect of the Cat growing to hold a position in his mind, and he knew it, but he didn't have much choice in the matter.  It was either give the Cat some room, or have it drive him mad.  It wasn't altering his imagination, but it did have the effect of, as Dolanna put it, grounding him in his senses.  Anything he couldn't see, couldn't smell, couldn't experience, they seemed misty and intangible, and it was a struggle to overcome the Cat and ponder them.
	But fortunately, pondering Keritanima's plans wasn't necessary.  Not with Keritanima there to carry them out.
	The door opened, scattering Tarrin's thoughts, and Dolanna entered.  To his surprise, she wasn't the only one.  Ahiriya, the Fire Seat, filed in behind the diminutive Sorceress, dressed in a red robe that set off her pale skin and fiery hair.  That set Tarrin's mind whirling, and one of his paws began to tremble.  To have to perform for Ahiriya was one thing, but it would become very clear very quickly to her and the Council that he was hampered.  If he was still injured inside, or whatever it was.
	"Good morning, Tarrin," Dolanna said pleasantly.  "This is Ahiriya, a member of the Council.  Often, they prefer to sit in with an Initiate and his instructor to ensure you are receiving proper instruction."
	"Dolanna, this is not a good idea," he said quickly, almost desperately.  "I didn't--"
	"That's Mistress Dolanna," Ahiriya said in an icy tone, glaring at him.
	"Don't push me, woman," Tarrin said to her in a cold voice that promised violence.
	"Tarrin, mind your manners!" Dolanna said in shock.
	"Save it," Tarrin told her bluntly.  "I'm not going to do tricks for the Council, even if I could."
	"You go too far, Initiate," Ahiyira said in a tightly controlled voice.  "I think a few days of penance is in order."
	"I'd like to see you try," Tarrin said in an ominous tone, his eyes lighting from within with their greenish aura.
	Dolanna, who knew him so well, understood immediately what that meant.  "Mistress Ahiriya, perhaps it would be wise for you to leave for now," she said in a calm voice.
	"I'm not letting this impertinent whelp get away with such outrageous disrespect," Ahiriya said in a hot tone.
	"Yes, but if you keep going, he will most definitely cause me to Heal one of you," Dolanna told her in a blunt voice.
	"You wouldn't dare attack a member of the Council!" Ahiriya said in shock, staring at him.
	Tarrin laid back his ears, extended his claws, and growled at her.
	"Oh my," Dolanna breathed, backing away from him.
	If anything convinced Ahiriya that he was serious, that could.  She backed up to the door, keeping her eyes on him, then opened it behind her.  "We'll talk about this later, Initiate," she promised in an ugly tone.  Then she backed through the door and closed it.
	The instant the door was closed, Tarrin's ears rose up to their normal position, and he stood up straight from the crouching stance he assumed.  He looked at Dolanna, his face sober, then he gave her a slight smile and winked.
	"You staged that?" she asked in a gasping voice.  "Tarrin, what on earth are you doing?"
	"I don't need an audience today, Dolanna," he told her.  "I have, I have a problem.  I need your help."
	"What is it?"
	"The fight with the Doomwalker, it...injured something inside me.  I can't control Sorcery.  Every time I touch the Weave, the power just floods into me, and I can't stop it."
	Dolanna looked at him for a moment.  "Floods into you?  I taught you how to control it, dear one.  It is no different."
	"Yes, it is," he replied, sitting down.  "The touching still feels the same, but the instant I do, it's like the Weave tries to reach out and grab me.  When it does grab me, it tries to flood me with power.  I can't resist it, Dolanna.  It's way too much for me."
	"I was told you caused your mother's hair to grow out," she said.  "That is something that even I cannot do, Tarrin.  I would not know where to begin.  So you can still use your power."
	He nodded.  "But if I hold onto it for more than two heartbeats, the Weave realizes I'm in contact with it, and then it tries to burn me alive.  And there's more."
	"What?"
	"I can almost see the Weave now, Dolanna," he told her.  "Even without touching it, I can sense it around me.  And if I concentrate, I can almost see the strands.  Ahiriya touched the Weave when I threatened her.  I could feel it."
	Dolanna nodded.  "I knew, because I was in touch with the Weave myself," she told him with a rueful smile.  "I really thought you meant to attack her."
	"I wanted her out of here," he said bluntly.  "The Council will find out in time, but I don't want the pressure of having to explain all of this with her looking over my shoulder.  I...I can't talk about things with strangers around.  You're the only one in this Tower wearing a shaeram that I trust."
	"I appreciate your trust, dear one, but there are many here worthy of it," she told him gently.  "I understand that you and Sevren have a friendship.  Could you not trust him?"
	He chuckled ruefully.  "Well, he did save my life, so I guess I could.  But I don't know him that well."
	"And what of Jula?  She stood vigil for you when you were injured, and she has befriended your parents."
	"How do you know that?"
	"Because I was there also," she said.  "Jula likes you, dear one.  She told me that she met you before you entered the Novitiate, in the baths, and you impressed her."
	Tarrin remembered indeed, how she braided his hair, and how she joked about it.  She didn't seem like a Sorceress.  "Well, maybe," he said.  "But we're getting off the point, Dolanna.  Can you help me work around this, this problem?  Or at least tell me what's wrong?"
	"I will have to understand what the problem is before I can see about finding a solution for it," she told him.  "Touch the Weave, dear one, and allow it to respond.  I will be here to cut you off if it threatens you."
	He nodded, reaching out.  Just as he told her before, touching the Weave was simple for him, where most Initiates spent months mastering the techniques of achieving contact with the Weave.  As simple as breathing, he touched the Weave, allowed it to charge him with a small amount of the six flows in even measures.  He held it thusly for but a second or two, and then the raging torrent of power found him, and assaulted him.  In instants he was being saturated with more power than he could control, and almost more than his body could withstand, and then it was severed away from him.  That power dissipated quickly and harmlessly back into the Weave.
	"The Weave reacted to you!" Dolanna said in an awed voice.  "I have never seen it act so before!"
	"What do you mean?"
	"When we touch the Weave, it tries to fill us with the same energy it holds itself," she told him.  "It is not a great amount, for the Weave is vast, and most of its energy is stored in strands.  The energy in a strand is not that great, or we would not have to draw from multiple strands at once to build up the magic necessary to weave spells.  But the Weave tried to fill you with more than that.  It actively tried to build up the power in you over the level of magical energy that the strands themselves carry.  To put in other terms, the Weave tries to fill us with the power of a strand, but when you touched it, you somehow opened a pathway directly to a Conduit, and it tried to fill you with its power."
	A Conduit.  "But that's what happened to me," he said in a quiet voice.  "The Doomwalker pushed me into the Conduit running through the Heart.  That's what caused all the light, because it was all I could do to keep from getting incinerated."
	"Oh, Tarrin," she said in awe.  "Tell me what happened.  Leave nothing out."
	Step by step, Tarrin recanted his memory of the fight, and being knocked into the Conduit.  "I don't remember very much after that," he said helplessly.  "The power tried to fry me to ash, and I just had to do something with it to keep from exploding.  They tell me I burned the Doomwalker to ash, and it lit up the Conduit and the Ward."
	"No one could survive direct exposure to the Heart," she said in a quiet voice.  "But you did, somehow."
	"Why is it called that?"
	"Because that is what it is," she replied.  "The Conduit running through the Heart is the largest, most concentrated Conduit known to man.  The Tower was built around it so the katzh-dashi could be very close to it.  The closer we are to the Heart, the stronger our Sorcery becomes.  You have never known anything else, but when you leave the city, leave Sulasia, you will understand.  Far away, it takes us longer to build up the energy to weave spells, because those areas are not as rich in magical energy as the Tower.  The Heart charges the strands around it with much more magical energy than you will find, say, back in Aldreth.  The Heart is literally the heart of our power, and when we are close to it, it makes us stronger."
	"I didn't know that," he said.  "So that's what's happening to me?  Do you think I somehow was affected by the Conduit?"
	"How could you not?" she said.  "I have never heard of anything surviving direct immersion in the Heart.  Even mundane objects thrown into the Heart charge with magical power, then explode.  But you survived it, and it has affected you.  It has opened a link with you, my dear one, a link that fills you with power you cannot hope to control.  But there is hope."
	"What?  How do we fix it?"
	"I do not think we can," she said, "but I--they--may be able to teach you how to control the link.  You cannot control the power, so you must learn how to control the pathway that feeds it to you.  If you can learn to choke off that link, it will give you the time you need to use Sorcery without fear of being Consumed."
	"You don't sound to convinced."
	"Because that may be impossible," she sighed.  "But it is all I can think of.  I will have to take this to the Council.  They are more skilled and learned than I, perhaps they can find a better solution."
	"The Council?  Dolanna, I--"
	"Hush, dear one," she told him.  "This is quite beyond me, and I need guidance.  Even if you do not trust the Council, remember that you are a Sorcerer, and that entitles you to their assistance.  They will help.  They must, it is their duty.  Perhaps one of them can help you find a way to control this ability, for I do not think that I can."
	Tarrin blew out his breath, but had to concede that she was right.  He needed help, and if Dolanna couldn't supply it, he had to find it where he could.  The way things were now, a single slip could fry him to ash, and that was just too dangerous, considering how easy it was for him to call on the power of the Weave.  What he had done for his mother had been totally without thought.  He didn't even remember how he did it.  But it was the most shining example of exactly why he had to get this under control, and do it very fast.  Another thoughtless touch on the Weave could quite possibly lead to his demise, and that was something that he absolutely could not afford.
	"Alright," he sighed.  "I've been wondering something for a while, Dolanna."
	"What is it, dear one?"
	"Why do you speak so formally?"
	She laughed.  "Because the northern common tongue is not my native one, Tarrin," she said.  "I am from Sharadar."
	He stared at her.  Sharadar?  The almost mythical kingdom on the southern continent that took its name from that nation, a nation of magic, learning, and wonders.  "You're from Sharadar?  Why are you up here?"
	"Because I am a Sorcerer, dear one," she replied calmly.  "Sharadar has its own order of katzh-dashi, in their own Tower.  The Heart comes up from the earth here, but it descends into the earth there.  There is a Tower and an order of Sorcerers at both ends of it.  There are Sharadite Sorcerers here, just as there are northern Sorcerers in Sharadar.  Each order is separate, but both answer to the Council and Keeper.  Because of that, there are always communications passing between each order."
	Tarrin had never conceived of that.  He knew that the world was round, but to imagine something piercing the earth and running all the way through it boggled his mind.  "What do the southern Sorcerers do?"
	"The same as the northern ones," she replied.  "Study, learn, and find others with our gifts."
	"I never knew about them."
	"There is a bit of, competition, between the two orders, dear one," she said with a smile.  "The teachings of the other order of katzh-dashi come later in your Initiate."
	"What happened to them during the Breaking?" he asked suddenly.  "Sevren's class didn't cover that."
	"The same as what happened up here, but the southern katzh-dashi were never driven from their Tower.  And yet they too simply vanished."
	"But why keep the other order secret?" Tarrin asked.  "It doesn't make sense."
	"It is not a secret," she told him, "it is merely something not often discussed.  The workings of an order half the world away have little bearing or impact on life here."
	"But they should say something in the Novitiate," he accused.
	"Tarrin, they said nothing about the southern continents, other than references to geography," she reminded him.  "And the Tower does like to keep its profile low.  Telling Novices there is another Tower spreads information that the katzh-dashi may prefer to keep private.  That is why only Initiates learn of the tower in Sharadar."
	"It still seems strange," he said after a moment.
	"Politics usually are, dear one," she chuckled.  "But since I dare not try to instruct you, I think we are done for today.  I need guidance, and must take this up with the Council at once."  She smiled at him.  "And I will be sure to tell Ahiriya that your uncertainty and fear over your condition caused your outburst.  After she understands the problem, she will probably forgive you your behavior."
	"I really don't care," he snorted.  "I'm not here to lick her slippers."
	"That kind of attitude will create trouble for you, dear one," Dolanna warned.  "It is not demeaning to give to others the respect that they deserve."
	"When she proves she deserves it, I'll give it to her," he grunted.  "Dolanna, thanks.  I do feel alot better now.  I was really afraid that something was going to happen."
	"We shall see, young one, and you are welcome," she said.  "Now, since you cannot practice, I suggest you learn.  In the South Tower, there is another library.  The real one, which holds the books that the Lorefinders study and the lore of magic and theory that we keep out of the hands of the Novices.  Go there, and read.  Learn.  There is much you can learn by reading, even if you cannot practice."
	"Nobody ever told me about that."
	"And why do you think that is?" she asked pointedly.
	"Oh, because they don't want to contaminate the process of learning how to touch the Weave," he realized.
	"Precisely.  But since you already have mastered that task, you cannot be contaminated by reading about the experiences of others.  Go there and learn, my dear one.  It will do you good."
	"They'll let me in?"
	"Yes.  You wear Initiate red, and that is all you will need to gain entrance."
	"I'll do it, Dolanna.  Thank you."
	"No thanks are needed, my dear one," she smiled.
	He touched her cheek with his paw, taking in her beauty, realizing again now much the small woman meant to him, then he took his leave of her.
	He didn't like the idea of the Tower meddling in his affairs, but Dolanna was right.  He needed to learn how to control whatever happened to him before it killed him, and if that meant allowing people he perceived as enemies to do it, then so be it.  Better to take the hand of an enemy then refuse it and jump blindly into death.  The Cat was a survivor, and it wouldn't let him refuse a chance to live.  It was a survivor, and would not allow his human pride or distrust to interfere with the need to survive.

	Blinking, Keritanima focused her eyes again, following the intricacies of the Weave that Lula was using.  She sat on a bench in the garden, for unlike most instructors, Lula was a plump, matronly woman who had the soul of a Druid.  She loved the outdoors and the gardens, and she much preferred to bring her students out into the greenery of the garden than keep them cooped up in the small, cramped rooms used for the initial touch.  She told the Princess that she felt she had control of her ability, so they spent their days sitting on benches surrounded by the rainbow of color of the gardens.  Keritanima had to admit, being in such a soothing environment helped her to learn as Lula started showing her multiflow weaves.  The one she was doing right now was a mixture of fire and air, a small ball of yellow light that hovered over her palm.  "Can you see how they go together, dear?" she asked.  Lula called everyone "dear"  or "sweetheart" or "love", even though she knew Keritanima's name.  The Brat Princess had made her name, title, and pedigree very plain to the woman quickly, but she just pushed all that aside like it was dust to sweep under the carpet and treated her like a little girl.  Neither Keritanima or the Brat quite knew how to take that.  The woman was absolutely fearless, and she treated Keritanima like her daughter's best friend rather than an Initiate.  The woman was a mystery that the Brat took to immediately, but Keritanima found almost hopelessly puzzling.  "Now, by adjusting the flow of fire, we can make the light change color," she said, tweaking the weave hovering over her hand just a bit, making the ball shift from yellow to blue.  "Alright dear, now it's your turn."
	Narrowing her eyes, Keritanima touched the Weave and felt the power flow into her.  Touching the Weave was something that was easy for her, almost natural, and she was shocked that some Sorcerers took months to master such a simple thing.  She drew in fire and air, and them pushed them out into the area over her furred hand.  Her amber eyes flickered quickly as they watched the flows begin to intertwine, until a small, dim ball of bluish-green light appeared over her hand.  "Not bad dear, but you need a bit more air and less fire," Lula told her.  Keritanima's brows lowered as she did as Lula ordered, until the ball grew in size and intensity, and then shifted to a solid sky-blue color.  "Very good, dear," she said with a bright smile.  "Can you make it change to red?"
	Narrowing her eyes down to slits, she considered the request.  It was a test, she was sure of it.  She had to increase the flow of fire to go from yellow to blue, but what would require going from blue to red?  Well, they were all colors of fire.  Yellow fire was hot.  Blue fire was actually the hottest, the kind of fire she'd seen in the Royal forges and foundries.  But red fire...that had to be the coolest.  The fringes of a fire were always red.  Decreasing the flow of fire entering the weave, she watched as it slowly shifted colors from blue to white to yellow to an orange-rust color, and then finally to red.  "Very good, dear," she praised.  "Now, how would you make it brighter without changing its color?"
	"Increase both flows proportionately?" she asked in reply.
	"Why don't you try it and see," she winked.
	Keritanima did, increasing the energy in both flows, and the effect was striking.  The small ball suddenly became almost painfully bright, and also expanded in size.  "Very good dear, but remember that working with flows is always a very precise business," Lula told her.  "That was too much.  You have to go in small steps, dear, small steps."
	Dimming it to a less eye-straining radiance, Keritanima looked at Lula and almost beamed.  It was so, wonderful, working with Sorcery.  It was hard to stay in character.  The Brat would never look to her instructor with such respect and a desire for praise.  But then again, Lula had that effect on people.  It was probably why they had chosen her to introduce Keritanima to the Weave.
	"I must say," a nasal voice called from behind, "that this is not at all what I expected to see."
	The little ball suddenly exploded in a blinding flash, as Keritanima lost control of the weave.  She whirled around on the seat and found herself staring at a rather ridiculous-looking rabbit Wikuni.  His head was dominated by the large ears on top of his head, pink nose, whiskers, and a pair of large front teeth.  His fur was a whitish gray all over, and a pair of pink eyes stared out from behind a pair of wire-frame spectacles.  He wore a plain blue waistcoat with a leather belt holding up a pair of blue pants.  A vest covered a white shirt under the waistcoat, into which was tucked the chain of a pocket watch, a technological marvel of the kingdom of Taiga, on the southwestern continent.  The expression on the face was plain, almost dull, as if the mind behind those eyes reflected its rather foppish exterior.  That couldn't be any further than the truth.  Jervis, head spy for his Majesty, Damon Eram, king of Wikuna, was probably the crown's most experienced and competent gatherer of hidden knowledge.  Probably one of the best in the world.  Jervis used his rather ridiculous appearance as a weapon, which hid his true ability and also his lethal abilities.  Jervis often was tasked to eliminate threats to the crown, and that required an assassin's touch.  Jervis had that touch.
	"Highness," he said with a fluid bow.  "I believe that his Majesty sent you here for an education.  This is not the education he expected you to receive."
	"That the girl has considerable talent in Sorcery was blind luck, sir," Lula told him.  "I take it you know him, dear?"
	"He works for my father," Keritanima said in a bored voice.  "He's here to make sure I don't get any silly ideas."
	"Allow me to introduce myself, madam.  I am Jervis, head ambassador to the Tower while our jewel is in your tender care."  He bowed to her extravagantly, his whiskers twitching and his eyes dancing with delight.
	"Well, pleased to meet you," Lula said with a girlish giggle.
	"My ship was delayed, so I'm afraid I couldn't get here sooner," he sighed.  "But, at least I see that her Highness is behaving herself."
	"I don't see what all the fuss is about," Lula snorted.  "Keritanima has been a very attentive and pleasant pupil."
	"Really," Jervis said in a calm voice.  "How do you like the grounds, your Highness?"
	"They'll do," she replied in a distracted voice.  "My room is entirely too small, but I can't make them furnish me with one more appropriate for a high Princess."
	"Not your rooms, the grounds," he said.
	"Oh.  They're pretty, I guess," she replied in a vapid tone.
	"Do you have any complaints?"
	"Where do you want me to start?" she replied.
	"Just have someone leave me a list," he said, waving her off with a hand.  "Considerable, you say?" he said to Lula, using a rather annoying trick he'd learned a while ago, bouncing around in a conversation to try to catch lies and half-truths.  "How considerable?"
	"Very promising," Lula said, both of them missing Keritanima's murderous stare.  "She's got alot of potential.  She could rise very high in the Tower, if she applies herself."
	"Unfortunately, her Highness has other pressing plans, I'm afraid," Jervis told her in an almost sincerely sad tone.  "Perhaps her, gifts, could help her on the throne."
	"I would dare say so," Lula said with a smile.
	"Well, I have matters to tend, so I'll take my leave," he said, giving them both a deep bow.  "Good morning to you, ladies."
	Keritanima had no doubt that reports on her ability and what the Sorcerers were doing with her would be on her father's desk by tomorrow.  The Tower wasn't the only magical order; no less than two priests of the Wikuni god were on the grounds.  The chaplain for Keritanima's private guards and the Royal Marines garrisoned on the grounds, and also a cleric that served Jervis with his magic.  One of the tricks of the clerics was that they could send messages over extreme distances.  That information should be in the palace within the hour, she reasoned.  Jervis would receive a response to it by tomorrow morning.  It was still night in Wikuna, so they wouldn't wake her father up for something that wasn't urgent.  Then they'd wait until a window when both the priest there and the priest here would be awake at the same time to send back any response.
	She thought that it may be worth her while to get her hands on those reports.  No doubt Jervis would uncover some tidbits that may be useful to her as well.

	Tarrin caught up with Dar about noon that day, as he moved towards the main Tower to have lunch.  He simply fell in step with the young Arkisian on the grounds, surprising him a bit.
	"Tarrin!" he said in surprised happiness.  "How have you been?"
	"I'm doing alright," he replied with a smile.  "I see you finally made it."
	"I could have been here two rides ago, but they were holding all the Initiates back for some reason," he replied.
	"How many?"
	"Nine," he replied.  "Remember that short blond that always stared at the floor?"  Tarrin nodded.  "She made it up here.  I don't think you know any of the others.  I know I don't."
	"Well, I'm just glad to have another person to talk to," Tarrin said with a smile.  "I miss all our talks."
	"It seems strange to be in a room by myself," he said.  "My closet-mate is a slack-jawed Torian with about half of his brain somewhere else."
	Tarrin chuckled.  Arkis and the city-state of Tor didn't exactly get along, but Dar was very much above judging people along socially drawn lines.  The Torian probably was a slack-jawed imbecile.  Dar was a very social person, and he enjoyed company.  Probably a function of his youth and insecurity about his position.  After all, what young person wouldn't feel insecure when about to travel down a road of power and danger.  "Well, Keritanima tells me that you're next door to her."
	"The obnoxious Wikuni?  Yes," he replied.
	Tarrin laughed.  "She can be obnoxious, but for some strange reason, we're friends," he told the young man.
	"You seem to attract non-human females, Tarrin."
	"I happen to be a non-human, Dar," Tarrin replied with a wink.
	"Sure, go and throw that in my face," the young man said, and then they both laughed.  "Where are you at?  I'd like to swing by and talk from time to time."
	"Not far from the Headmaster's office," he replied.  "Where he can keep an eye on me and Allia."
	"I haven't seen her in a while.  Do you know that she was actually nice to me when you disappeared?"
	"She told me about that," he replied.  "She's my closet-mate, so she's not very far from me."
	"You mean they allowed that?"
	"Allia didn't give them much choice," Tarrin chuckled.  "You know how she is."
	"Too well," he replied.  "I kind of miss her.  Guess I'm turning into a masochist."
	Tarrin laughed.  "She's not that bad."
	"I seem to recall you telling me that once before," Dar said with a sly grin.
	"Anyway, I hate to impose, but this isn't entirely a social visit."
	"What's up?"
	"I'd like you to do me a favor."
	"Sure, what do you need?"
	"There's a Novice that I'm friends with, the blond that came to the Tower with me," he began.
	"Tiella?  I know her."
	"Good, because I'll need you to talk to her from time to time.  It has to be where a Novice and an Initiate can speak without raising attention."
	"The baths?"
	Tarrin nodded.  "She's doing something for me, Dar.  She may have some information to give you from time to time, information that could get you in trouble if the katzh-dashi find out about it."
	"That's not a problem, Tarrin," he said.  "You know I'll help.  You and I, we've been through alot together, and you're a friend.  Friends help each other."
	"You have no idea how happy I am to hear that, Dar," he said sincerely, putting his huge paw on the young man's shoulder.  "You're one of the few humans around here that will even talk to me."
	"That's their loss, Tarrin," he replied calmly.  "Alot of them are afraid of you, but it's because they don't understand you.  Not like I do."
	"They never really gave you a choice."
	"True, but things worked out anyway, didn't they?"
	Tarrin smiled.  Dar was young, but Tarrin had often been impressed at how mature and wise the boy was.  His parents had raised him very well.  He had a generous nature and an almost inhuman ability to accept others for who and what they are.  Dar was everybody's friend and nobody's enemy.  And that fact would help Tarrin right now.
	"I guess they did," Tarrin said.  "Anyway, enough chatter about nonsense.  Tell me what happened after I left for the Initiate."
	"It's only been a ride or two."
	"Well, it feels like years," Tarrin told him.  "Besides, we never really caught up after I ran away, so we may as well get ourselves current."
	Dar laughed.  "True enough."
	They ran into Allia in the kitchens, and she invited herself to join them as they sat down in the small dining hall used by the Initiates.  She listened quietly as Tarrin and Dar caught up on things.  "So, was today your first day of instruction?" Tarrin asked.
	Dar nodded.  "The history they gave seemed incomplete," he said.  "They made no ment